For the LOVE of a dog named Canoli

For the LOVE of a dog named Canoli…. and why I decided to write and publish my book…

If I told you that this book was over ten years in the making, would you believe me?

You see, over a decade ago I lost my dear father. He was young— only 60— so it was, to say the least… heartbreaking. The pain of the loss was buried so deep in my heart and soul that I thought I might never recover from it. It literally took me years before I could speak his name without becoming teary-eyed, or even rejoice in a memory without sadness… years.

As my entire family lived and still lives in Canada, I had to rely on my friends in Los Angeles as a support system to help me heal; and they were truly wonderful. But the one constant I had in my life, my only true source of joy during those first few years of grief recovery, was my little dog that I called Canoli. Canoli was always making me laugh, and keeping me busy, as he not only needed — but demanded — my full attention. We became devoted to each other, and I think he really knew deep in his sweet little soul, that his love was my life-anchor in what felt sometimes like a sinking ship. As a result, we became inseparable.

At one point, I looked down at Canoli and I remember thinking to myself that if I lost him, I would truly die. He had transitioned from being my puppy, into becoming my baby— my family— and eventually, he had completely stolen my heart. I thought about how hard it would be to lose him one day, as I realized that my life would ‘most likely’ out-live his. (Although… it is LA and I have done a shit load of dumb things, so truthfully, Canoli did have a chance at being a puppy orphan!)

Although I had grown up with dogs on my family farm, and always had some sort of a pet, I had never raised a puppy on my own— from 10 weeks old—and had never realized how ‘human like’ dogs truly are. It was the first time I had ever had a dog live in my home, and sleep in my bed with me. Canoli changed my view of life, of the universe, and our symbiotic reactions and how we are all—humans, animals and nature— so much more interdependent on each other then we even realize. He truly wasmy best teacher.

Because of Canoli, an idea was born!

So, I had an idea to write a story about life, and about loss, and about love. And about the love that transpires between two entities — two entirely different life forces — and the beauty of that love. I hoped that the story would help people to heal with the loss of their pet, or any loved one for that matter. I always knew the beginning and the ending, but what transpired within the pages became an ongoing and fun creative discovery.

I only managed to write the story in small segments, as each time I would sit down to hammer out a few pages, I swear to God, Canoli would get sick, or attacked by a dog, or some travesty would befall him, and I started to worry that I was somehow unknowingly willing his early demise. But over the years, I managed to outline the majority of the story, and during the last several months of his life, I gutted out the rest, as I knew that if I didn’t finish it before he passed, I would never be able to complete it.

So once again, I was grieving a loss: The loss of my little baby, my sweet baby dog, my Canoli… another heartbreaking trauma had beset me. Healing takes time, and honestly I still miss him terribly. I am still sad at times, but the good memories are pouring in and finally replacing the aching pain that tugs so severely at a wounded heart.

Time heals all wounds!

Then two years ago, my cousin Lori from Calgary came to visit me. I had my story sitting on my kitchen counter, hoping to read and proof it yet again, but had never had the heart to look at it since Canoli had passed.

My cousin knew that I had been working on a story based on Canoli, and she asked if she could perhaps read it while she was visiting me. The story wasn’t in perfect form, and I asked if she would allow me to read it to her out loud so I could hear my mistakes. I tell you, we laughed, and cried, and laughed out loud, and cried from laughing so hard as, little by little, the story unfolded over the course of the four days she was here. Lori had a dog named Bear back in Canada, who was 14 years old, and he had started to have some health issues, and Lori was worried during her entire visit as to how he was doing. She called her husband two or there times a day to check on her baby ‘Bear’.

A few weeks after Lori returned to Canada, her sweet little Bear passed away. Several weeks later I received a beautiful letter from my cousin, thanking me for having shared my story with her, and that picturing her little Bear the way I had imagined a dog’s life to be, was all that was getting her through her grief. As it turns out, my story was somewhat poignantly positioned for her and what she was going through in her own life.

It was at that moment that I felt compelled to share this story, and I hope that the joy and the love that is written within its pages, brings happiness and peace to all who read it. I always felt like I knew what Canoli was thinking, and I hope you enjoy his little journey, as told by the little doggie character in my story (you need to read it to find out his ‘story name’)—as Where the Dogs Go is truly inspired from our lives together.

Always remember that the one gift that life gives us all is the power of love. It is better than shoes, or handbags or cars, it is the one intangible gift that we are given in this life—for the only cost to give and receive it is an open and loving heart.

PS… Don’t worry, this book isn’t a sad tale, rather it is a heartwarming, funny, charming story about the POWER OF LOVE! LOVE is what make our Universe orbit after all! If you love dogs, and wonder how they think and view life and all that is comprised within, you will love this ‘doggie tail’ ….

Getting Naked versus Feeling Naked

NAKED!!! Getting Naked versus Feeling Naked

NAKED!! What is the difference between getting naked and feeling naked? Well, ‘getting naked’ generally implies an action that you choose to perform. We all ‘get naked’ to shower or bathe; or we ‘get naked’ to change into our various ‘fashionable or not’ ensembles as needed throughout the day; and if you are not ‘getting naked’ when engaged in a hot-intimate-sexual encounter, then I can only assume your partial nudity is a result of having sexual relations in a public or semi-public place. Getting naked is a part of life, but feeling naked, on the other hand, implies vulnerability.

You see, we get naked to shower, but when we have to parade our naked body around a gym locker room or sit naked in the steam room, we consciously know that other naked people might be scoping us out, looking for any signs of our physical flaws. Or, the first time you make love with someone, having to expose every part of your physical body—imperfections and all—can make both sexes nervously worried that what lies beneath our daily wardrobes will be exposed and fearfully rejected. Getting naked can make you feel defenseless; so wearing our ‘arsenals of apparel’, makes us feel as protected as a robber with a gun.

I have always been someone who was extremely comfortable with my naked-self, and I can’t wait to get home from work and throw on my Target boy shorts and wife-beater and chill. I love my mini-skirts and low cut tee-shirts. I like sexy. Yet, putting on a bikini takes on new meaning once you hit 40, and having sex for the first time with someone makes me not want to eat for two days prior in order to prevent stomach bloat. Yep, we all have our naked insecurities: I don’t care if you are Gisele Bündchen or Kim Kardashian… getting naked, is stressful.

However, the most naked I have ever felt in my life has been over the last two and a half years. Why? Because, I decided to ‘put myself out there’ and share my writing with the public, as opposed to reading my silly stories only to my friends. Creating my blog, ‘WheatFieldsToWonderland: A Canadian Girl’s Tips to Remaining Sane in the Upside Down World of Hollywood’ is a way for me to be creative, and it has grown into something that I am truly proud of. I have grown as a person, as a writer, and I have learned a lot about myself in the process.

Unfortunately, I have also learned a lot about the people around me. I guess I assumed that my friends, many of whom I have had for decades, would be supportive and encouraging of my endeavor. I thought that they would ‘like’ my stories on Facebook, and post comments and heck, maybe even share some of my posts. What was shocking to me is that the people who I thought I could count on for support, were often not the ones who have helped me. Of course, I have many friends who have been wonderful and supportive, but, for the most part, the vast majority of people who have emboldened me are not the ones who I initially thought would be my biggest cheerleaders. It bothered the fuck out of me in the beginning, but I eventually surrendered my heart to the universe, and I truly cherish those who have championed me; believe me, I know who you are and it has not gone unnoticed.

But now, I am doing something that makes me feel like I am naked in public; like I am the only person who chose to show up nude to the all-nude-beach. Kind of the opposite of the Emperor’s New Clothes, when the king who believed he was clothed was, in actuality, stark naked; I actually feel stark naked fully clothed.

Why?

Well, because I decided to publish my first novel, a story I wrote about the love between a dog and his human. A story wholly based on the love I had and shared with my little dog, Canoli. A little dog that changed my heart and made me see life and the universe in a whole new light. I am putting my own money out there to share a story that I hope will make people laugh, help them deal with loss, and feel good about love.

When my first review came in, and the reviewer started with… “Martin debuts”… I literally had a panic attack realizing that my little story was going to be taken seriously. Shit, this was way bigger than writing a blog post. This was a book, one with a cover, one that was going out for the world to see. One that people might love; or they might fucking hate.

So yeah, I feel naked… I feel vulnerable… I feel nervous, and I feel scared. Scared that my dyslexic mind will have written something backward and worried that I haven’t spotted all of my typos; nervous that people won’t connect with my vision; anxious that the critics will disapprove of my take on love and life… Believe me, any emotion that you think I might be having now, I am having. I am scared shitless.

But then, one of my sweet girlfriends, Rachel, said to me… “Janell, you have already jumped off the diving board, there is no turning back now, be proud of yourself and believe in yourself. You inspire me, because you said you were going to do something and you actually did it.”

And do you know what, I realized that Rachel was right. I had created something, and I was sharing something that came from my heart. Yeah, I did say I was going to do it, and there is pride in actually completing something that is so special to you, but I still hope that when I eventually hit the water, that I won’t do a belly-flop.

Oh, I can talk tough, and say I don’t care who likes my work, and that I will not take any criticism to heart, and that I will only embrace the positive remarks, but that would be disingenuous of me to say. Life isn’t easy, and that expression ‘nothing good comes easy’ is likely true. So friends, I am feeling naked right now. I am doing something I have never done, and sharing a story inspired by my dog that I loved so much.

But, do you know what? I am proud of this accomplishment, and I hope that whoever reads my book enjoys the labor of love that went into doing it. And, at the end of the day, sharing love, sharing your heart, and sharing your soul, is truly giving a gift to anyone who chooses to accept it. So on that note, never be afraid to try, because not trying means not growing as a person. And aren’t we here on this planet to become our best?

So, I am feeling naked, and do you know what? I realized that… that’s okay.

For those of you who prefer to listen, check out the audio link below…

Charles Schultz said it right: ‘Happiness is a Warm Puppy’. I am guessing he was a dog lover because that phrase alone truly sums it up. I have never known anything as pure and beautiful as the love I felt for and from my little dog, Canoli. People who haven’t had the chance to have a beautiful animal in their lives to love and cherish, truly are robbed of something unbelievably special.

When you really get to know a dog, you can look into their eyes and see their heart. You and your puppy learn to understand each other, and read each other’s actions, expressions, and words to the extent that you actually communicate together. I have to say, Canoli was my best teacher. I learned the most about life, the universe, humanity and ultimately myself after sharing my life with him for almost 15 years. And today, August 10th, is his birthday. And to honor and celebrate him, I decide to share a story with you.

He had many nicknames over the course of his life: Canoles, Canoliolio, Tasmanian Devil Dog, Baby Dog, Stinky, Stinker Winker, Canoli Monster-dog….and he merited and earned each and every one. The following story really shows the little Devil Dog in him!

Could this sweet thing ever been referred to as Canoli, The Tasmanian Devil Dog? YES

FLASHBACK …to the days of the Canoli the Tasmanian Devil Dog

It was a Thursday night. I was heading out for what would be a long night of clubbing with my friends. I always felt bad about leaving him as I was gone all day at work, and in the evenings he would sulk when he saw that I was going out. It would tear at my heart, and he knew it did, so he sulked even more.

I walked him a couple of miles so he was tired before I went out at night, and I always tried to leave a lot of fun snacks, so he wouldn’t be bored and would amuse himself until he fell asleep from the long evening walk. Canoli’s ideas of snacks were different than most dogs. Of course he did like doggy cookies, but what he really loved most – other than Mac and Cheese and Hamburgers – were….Vegetables. He would go nuts for Romaine Lettuce and Purple Cabbage but what he couldn’t resist, what made him howl like a wolf until I caved and I gave him some, was Celery.

So on this night, thinking I was leaving a nice little surprise in his doggie bowl, I cut up 9 small pieces of celery and ran out the door. Hours later, I came home, it was 2 am and I was expecting to see him passed out as usual of the top of the sofa. I had a large beautiful L-shaped sofa. Canoli used to nuzzle himself in the soft cushions at the top of the sofa at the place nearest the window where he could watch the world and see when I came home. Normally, I found a passed out puppy, one that only woke up when I carried him down to the curb for his evening piddle.

But on this night when I returned home, Canoli wasn’t on top of the sofa….he was soundly sleeping in front of it. It seemed weird, and I started to call his name, worried he was ill or injured or something. As I walked towards the sofa, I noticed that something seemed to be sticking up from the cushion closest to me. As I got closer I recognized it was a piece of celery, and before I could get much closer Canoli woke up. Instead of coming towards me for a cuddle, he started to growl like a grizzly bear, and ran along the length of the sofa back and forth back and forth and growling like a crazy dog at me. For a moment I thought he might have gotten Mad Cow disease from a Jack in the Box hamburger or something. Then I detected that each cushion appeared to have a piece of celery on it; worse, upon closer inspection, the pieces weren’t lying on the cushions, he had buried one piece in the center of each cushion. Dug with his little paws placing a piece of celery in the hole so that just the tip of the celery was sticking up.

I was mortified. Three of the nine pieces of celery he ate, and six he buried for later…in my sofa…the one nice thing I had in my apartment…..in the center of the cushion – dead center I will add, his aim was damn good. I screamed bloody murder! I yelled his name! I called him a little Fucker! I called him bad dog! For the next 15 minutes he woofed and growled and continued to protected his prey. I was furious and finally gave in and went to bed. Canoli, stayed to watch over his loot. He didn’t get to go outside to pee and we did not share a bed that night.

When I got a look in the morning, while he was happily comping on his morning breakfast, I noticed that the sofa was basically ruined. I could turn some of the pillows over, but the ones on each end were fucked. And he wouldn’t let me take the celery out; he tried to bite me when I did. I had to wait, until he was hungry enough and went and dug himself out a little snack. Little by little the celery disappeared.

The sofa cushions that could be saved were turned over. I bought a large needle and some thick thread and tried to repair the holes. It looked awful. I bought pillows and throw blankets to hide the spots. But at the end of the day, it was ruined. At that point it kind of became Canoli’s indoor run, and I had to release it to the universe and just let go.

Little Canoli enjoying his ‘run’ ….my EX-SOFA!

FLASH FORWARD TO TODAY……

You know, the funny thing about this story is that I was so upset and mad at the time, and sad that something that I loved was basically ruined. But at the end of the day it was my fault and I knew it. I had left him a snack to amuse himself with, and boy did him find something new to do – other than eat.

And now, it is a funny, warm, fond memory. And I would give anything to have him for another day and make another memory with him. So on this day, when you think of things, people, and circumstances that are driving you crazy, filling your mind with all sorts of negative energy, remember….this too shall pass. The memories that are the strongest usually stem from our most difficult or most amazing life experiences. Our minds tend to forget the mundane. So from great pain, great frustration, great heartache, great loss, or great goodness come our best memories….

Enjoy the beauty that the world has, the lessons we learn, the gifts we are given, the people and creatures that make our days brighter.